


Mother's Milk

by shylo



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Antichrist, BDSM, Bisexual Female Character, End of the World, F/F, F/M, Gen, Lactation Kink, Magic, Michael has a thing for boobs, NSFW, Nipple Play, One Shot, POV First Person, Polyamorous Character, Post-Apocalypse, Sanctuary, Shameless Smut, Smut, if i'm being totally honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23705758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shylo/pseuds/shylo
Summary: "I think I would like some milk."Michael makes a special request and of course, his wishes were met. Whether I liked it, or not.“I’m leaving for the night,” he drawled, pulling on his long black cloak. “Be ready when I get back.”“Ready for what?” I asked, brows furrowed in confusion. Kneeling before me, he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth and another into the palm of my hand.“Ready to make me very happy.”I shivered.
Relationships: Michael Langdon/Original Character(s), Michael Langdon/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 35





	Mother's Milk

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! It's been a long, long while (again -_-). My sincere apologies. It's been so hard to write anything at all and suddenly this just poured out of me in about a day. I've been watching a lot of AHS while in lock down and it's helped me get back on the wagon so I might even be able to update everything else in a week. Crazy, huh? 
> 
> Please enjoy this mad torrent I started at 4am.

I know there are cows.

Well, at least I _assumed_ so.

In the Sanctuary, we were the lucky ones. Most of the meals were the shaking green jello Nutricubes, but there was food. Actual, tangible _food_. Which was more than what everyone else got. Everyone else on Earth mostly ate each other.

But I was _sure_ we had cows.

A half cup of milk was a fortnightly event, fresh cream was a rare occurrence and I’d seen the same pale, cheddar cheese alongside a few dishes often enough. For very special occasions such as solstices, Halloween and birthdays (easily managed when we only celebrated Michael’s and mine), the Grey gowned women that fluttered through the halls brought out steaks, usually veal, the taste of the young meat haunting every nutrient cube I would have to eat in between. Somewhere in the sprawling underground complex there must have been cows. And yet…

I know I’ve been bewitched. I was sure of it. After a while, Michael had made no efforts to hide his identity. Much easier to admit he was the Antichrist than to explain why he left a radiation proof complex to go roam the valleys. _Sorry my love, off to torture and maim the dregs of humanity. Won’t be back for dinner. Don’t wait up._

He left, sometimes for weeks at a time. My body would liquefy in the meanwhile, left in a state of constant need for him that I couldn’t believe was natural. It was more than missing him. I was in a mishmash of despair and heightened arousal. And I knew he was behind it. I could tell by the amused look on his face whenever he came home and I ran up to him, gasping, pleading, half mad with the need to be devoured by him. He told me once he liked seeing me needing him so desperately. For him, it was a lovely little welcome home. Bringing his work home, more like. Even more difficult when I could never deny him a thing. I had only just gotten over the week before last.

"I’m leaving for a day. I want you to wear these until I get back." 

Michael had sat me down on the grand King Sized bed, bent to one knee before me. He had the half mad look in his eyes that I _knew_ spelt trouble. I heard the twinkle of small bells as he opened out his palm. Dangling crystal chimes hanging from a pair of tiny clasps peered back at me. With his other hand, he placed a ring gag and cuffs with matching decorative crystals on the clear straps beside me on the bed. _Those_ I could identify.

“Are those… earrings?” I could be so lucky.

“No darling, they’re clamps,” he laughed, shaking them again so the room was filled with their shimmering chime.

"You must be bloody joking."

Needless to say, he _had_ to have me put them on before he had left the compound. A solid hour of me bent over as he fucked me from behind, mouth gaping, my breasts ringing out like the bells of St. Clement’s. When he had returned not one but _four days_ later, I was near inconsolable. I could barely sleep with the gag on and with my hands tied behind my back, Wanda, one of my personal handmaidens, had to spoon feed me liquids. I didn’t fare much better upon his return. Thinking of the dark delight in Michael's eyes as he tended to my sore tortured nipples with his tongue as I sobbed still made me shiver.

And so, today's request wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

"I think I would like some milk."

I lifted my nose out from the book it was buried in to spy him standing at the fireplace. It wasn't clear if he was speaking to me or speaking aloud but I answered anyway.

"Milk, darling? I'm sure Wanda can get you a glass." I looked about the room, hoping to spot the grey clad attendant tucked away somewhere. The best ones were very good at hiding in plain sight.

"No." Looking at him, I was a little startled to see he had already turned to face me.

"No?" I replied, a sick wiggling already building in my depths. His stare seared through my layers of clothing as if they were flayed off my chest. I lifted my arms awkwardly to shield myself, already uneasy. I didn’t like it when Michael went quiet. It meant his dark imagination was whirling a million miles a second, without interruption. All of a sudden, he was a flurry of movement, going into the bedroom to change into more sturdy clothing.

“I’m leaving for the night,” he drawled, pulling on his long black cloak. “Be ready when I get back.”

“Ready for what?” I asked, brows furrowed in confusion. Kneeling before me, he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth and another into the palm of my hand.

“Ready to make me _very_ happy.”

I shivered.

* * *

Pain. Deep seated and agonising.

I sat up with a loud groan, the ache in my chest, in my _breasts_ , completely indescribable. Tugging off the layers, I gasped. They were red, angry even. Filled with a pressure that filled my head with noise. 

“Wanda! June! Rosie!” I wailed, and the women stumbled in quickly, shocked at my visible panic. “Don’t just stand there! Help me!” 

Wanda, the older and more experienced of the group quickly understood more about my situation than I, and immediately began barking out instructions. I was wrapped in a silk robe and lifted by her and two other attendants as Rosie ran a sweetly scented bath. By the time I was in the water, I was a crying, snivelling mess. 

“Wha… What’s happening to me?” I cried, my breasts far too tender for me to even touch.

Rosie, the youngest Grey and my favourite, blushed heavily, her eyes unable to meet mine. “It seems you’re urm… lactating… Miss.”

“Fucking _what_?” I couldn’t decide what was aching more, my head or my tits. Michael, that _bastard_. Of course he’d have me pumping milk like his own personal sow. I told him I hated when he used his powers on me but I guess as the Destroyer of Worlds, you didn’t really have to answer to anyone. 

The women fussed around me, the hot water doing well to ease the pressure on my bursting breasts. I was still hurting, sinking low into the water so it reached my ears. Sensing my slightly calmed mood, the women made to exit.

“Rosie, wait! You stay here with me.” The young woman nodded, waiting by the door as the others filed out. I was no longer at the peak of madness but my pained bosom still made me let out the occasional pathetic snivel. “Rub my shoulders, please Rosie?”

The young woman nodded, moving to stand beside me. She had told me a while back she had been in her final year of college when the world had ended. Oddly enough, she found great joy in looking after me, her service to the Dark Lord. And frankly, she hadn’t been doing very well in school. Once she had kneaded the tension from my shoulders, I laid back, sighing.

“You’re such a doll, Rosie.” She smiled back shyly in response. Her young face was shiny with the steam in the bathroom and she knelt behind me, pouring water over my bare shoulders. Peeking upwards, I would occasionally catch her eyes flicking to my chest and chuckled. “They’re shocking aren’t they?”

“No, Miss,” she replied in her small, hesitant voice. I watched as her hands had dipped, slowly inching their way down below the water to grasp at the swollen mounds. “I think they’re lovely.”

I melted, pushing my sore bosom into her massaging palms. Holy Maker in Heaven was that magical. Her slim fingers worked into the taut muscles, easing the pressure slightly. Closing my eyes, I let her work them over, enjoying the soft, delicate touch.

“I see you’ve started playing without me.” My eyes snapped open at the sultry, teasing purr of Michael’s voice. Rosie was far more surprised. She jolted back so quickly in shock, she landed on her ass. Striding in on long legs, he sat himself on the edge of the large claw-foot tub. 

“Please,” he smiled, opening up his tobacco box to refill his pipe. “Don’t stop on my account.”

With tentative, shaking fingers, Rosie placed her hands back on my breasts. She resumed her gentle caresses and I hummed. Michael looked on in mild amusement, his bright eyes drinking up the look of flushed satisfaction in mine. 

This went on for many minutes, Rosie petting soothing stokes into my aching teats, the surrogate for our arousal. She hid her face in my hair, unable to meet the cool blue gaze of her Master. Meanwhile, the smoky spice of Michael’s pipe slowly filled the room. My fingers twitched to slip into the water and over my leaking slit. I was drunk with his presence and he felt it. 

“Rosie…” Michael sighed. The girl whimpered in reply. “You may leave us now.”

Michael waited until she had scarpered, before he stood to his feet. I was pinned by his gaze as he peeled off each item of clothing. My mouth watered at every emerging inch of skin, all the way down to his underwear. At the sight of his bare cock, rock hard, despite his apathetic demeanour, I felt my pussy throb. 

Climbing in to face me, Michael submerged himself below the water for a moment before sitting up with a contented groan. Abruptly, he tugged me forward so I was straddling his thighs. He kissed me hard, my swollen chest bobbing between us.

“I can’t believe I caught you down here with _Rosie_ ,” he scoffed, his hands running over my body beneath the water. “The girl is as quiet as a mouse and utterly useless. I don’t know why you like her so much.”

“You didn’t _catch_ me doing anything,” I snapped, lifting water in my palms to slick his shiny locks back. He was so breathtakingly beautiful, all golden and gleaming. I could fuss over him all day, well, when he wasn’t being an asshole.

“I don’t act like it, my love, but I am a _very_ jealous person. Took every ounce of my self control not to snap her thin, little neck right there. Helping herself to what’s mine,” he sighed, peppering kisses over my shoulders and collarbone. 

“Please don’t kill Rosie. I like her,” I pouted, genuinely frowning. The end of the world was boring as is. He couldn’t take away sweet Rosie.

“I wonder… How many times have you had your sapphic little parties while I’ve been away? Has she licked your pussy? Do you make each other cum?” His eyes were wild, teeth bared wolfishly. If it was possible, his prick got harder beneath me.

“Michael, stop. She was helping me with these horrid things you’ve cursed me with,” I wailed, pointing to my inflamed chest. 

“You don’t like them?” he smirked, scooping up the hot water to douse my front. The tops of my nipples glistened and I could tell by the twitch of his cock that he enjoyed it.

“You’ve given me fucking _udders_ ,” I snapped, slapping at his hands in annoyance.

“And what hot, milky tits they are,” he grinned. My stomach lurched with arousal. Ever the sadist, he tugged at my left nipple, making me let out a gasp of surprise and a little pain. The splash of milk that erupted hit him in the collarbone and he laughed in delight. 

With both hands, he groped at them, sighing at the white droplets that glimmered forth. I jerked in his lap, his long fingers handling them without mercy. That, coupled with the sawing grind of his cock between my nether lips, I couldn’t help the keening cry that burst from my lips. They hypnotised him. Michael looked on in awe, the nipples taut and glistening with the strain of lactation.

“Sweet mother’s milk…” he breathed, laving his tongue over the peak before greedily sucking down. The pressure and friction of his rough tongue against my sore teats made tears pinprick in the corner of my eyes. As he suckled on one tit, he battered the other, fingers flicking and mauling to his pleasure.

“Fuck Michael, fuck…” The feel of the milk letting down, his mouth hungrily draining my breast, was electric. It was a confusing mix of ache and relief. I could hear his loud gulps, the sweet, creamy liquid making his eyes flutter closed.

A nimble fingered hand snuck it’s way between my thighs and I keened, humping my crotch into his palm. Water sploshed noisily around us, my fingers tangling themselves into his wet locks as he fingered my poor pussy to oblivion, his mouth sealed over my gushing teat. He tugged at it with his straight, white teeth and I lost it, hurtling over the edge with that sharp stab of pain. I came suddenly, grinding into the two fingers he had slipped deep into my pussy.

Panting, I slumped in his arms, sinking into the warm water. His lips found mine and I moaned as a sweet liquid poured into my mouth. There was little choice but to swallow. Michael lifted his fingers from the water. Although I couldn’t taste much aside from the bath water, he enjoyed rubbing them along my tongue nevertheless.

“Don’t you taste sweet, my love? Everything about you is sugar sweet,” he purred, fucking my mouth softly with his fingers. “Come now, sweetheart. Let me fuck you properly.”

I wiggled up, lethargy seeped into my bones after my sudden orgasm. Lifting my body slightly, I impaled myself onto his erection, my soft sex giving way against the hard shaft. He didn’t give me much time to adjust before he was fucking into me. Inside, outside, there wasn’t a place where I didn’t burn.

With his hands beneath my thighs, Michael bounced me in his lap, my whole body sinking back down with a jolt. His mouth darted erratically from one breast to another, the milk leaking from his mouth and onto his front. It was a sickeningly erotic sight, ice coloured eyes, his long tongue, rolling over his white stained lip, the steamy water making his hair curl in gentle waves. He grinned up at me and I could believe so easily that he was a devil.

Inching towards my peak, I closed my eyes, letting the feel of him wash over me completely. He had left my teats to bite at my chest, sore spots that would blossom into wide, ugly bruises he would spend the next few days fawning over. One hand clutched at the rim of the tub, the other a tight fist in his blonde mane. I was being pounded into paradise.

“You better cum right now. Open that mouth and scream for me,” Michael snapped, grunting as he gripped my ass. My body reacted of its own accord. The world fell away and all I could feel was his cock splitting me in half and the weight of my aching, _aching_ tits and then I was gone. The soaring pressure that had built up inside imploded, and I screeched, a shaking, shuddering, crumbling mess. Screwing his eyes tight against the stranglehold of my cunt, Michael waited impatiently for me to reach the end of my orgasm before he had pushed me back on my haunches.

“Get up, my sweet little slut. I’m gonna cum on those milky titties.” He stood in the tub, and I looked up at the beautiful, dripping, golden figure looming above me. There on my knees, my well mauled tits pushed up to his delight, still quivering and half blind from my climax, I felt like I could worship him forever. 

He groaned, jerking himself madly, his cock pointed at my chest. The first splash hit the hollow of my collarbone, his next two right in between my cleavage. I quickly parted my lips, hoping he would grant me a taste and was rewarded when Michael quickly stuffed himself into my willing mouth. Hungry, I sucked noisily until he was spent.

Chuckling, he stuck a finger in the messy valley of my breasts and lifted the white coated tip to my mouth. I sighed, swallowing down the tart tang of semen, tainted with the sweet of breast milk. Finally satisfied, Michael sunk back into the warm water, pulling me close to his chest. 

“Look at all the mess,” he mused, eyes half lidded, close to sleep. “Your little pussy eater Rosie will clean it up.”

A calm silence fell across the room - I would blame my delirium for breaking it. “Michael?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Where do we keep the cows?”

“Erm, what?”


End file.
